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Message of Pope Leo XIV for Lent 2026

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Lent 2026

Listening and Fasting: Lent as a Time of Conversion

Papa Leon

Dear brothers and sisters,

Lent is a time in which the Church, guided by a sense of maternal care, invites us to place the mystery of God back in the center of our lives, in order to find renewal in our faith and keep our hearts from being consumed by the anxieties and distractions of daily life.

Every path towards conversion begins by allowing the word of God to touch our hearts and welcoming it with a docile spirit. There is a relationship between the word, our acceptance of it and the transformation it brings about. For this reason, the Lenten journey is a welcome opportunity to heed the voice of the Lord and renew our commitment to following Christ, accompanying him on the road to Jerusalem, where the mystery of his passion, death and resurrection will be fulfilled.

Listening

This year, I would first like to consider the importance of making room for the word through listening. The willingness to listen is the first way we demonstrate our desire to enter into relationship with someone.

In revealing himself to Moses in the burning bush, God himself teaches us that listening is one of his defining characteristics: “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry” (Ex 3:7). Hearing the cry of the oppressed is the beginning of a story of liberation in which the Lord calls Moses, sending him to open a path of salvation for his children who have been reduced to slavery.

Our God is one who seeks to involve us. Even today he shares with us what is in his heart. Because of this, listening to the word in the liturgy teaches us to listen to the truth of reality. In the midst of the many voices present in our personal lives and in society, Sacred Scripture helps us to recognize and respond to the cry of those who are anguished and suffering. In order to foster this inner openness to listening, we must allow God to teach us how to listen as he does. We must recognize that “the condition of the poor is a cry that, throughout human history, constantly challenges our lives, societies, political and economic systems, and, not least, the Church.”[1]

Fasting

If Lent is a time for listening, fasting is a concrete way to prepare ourselves to receive the word of God. Abstaining from food is an ancient ascetic practice that is essential on the path of conversion. Precisely because it involves the body, fasting makes it easier to recognize what we “hunger” for and what we deem necessary for our sustenance. Moreover, it helps us to identify and order our “appetites,” keeping our hunger and thirst for justice alive and freeing us from complacency. Thus, it teaches us to pray and act responsibly towards our neighbor.

With spiritual insight, Saint Augustine helps us to understand the tension between the present moment and the future fulfilment that characterizes this custody of the heart. He observes that: “In the course of earthly life, it is incumbent upon men and women to hunger and thirst for justice, but to be satisfied belongs to the next life. Angels are satisfied with this bread, this food. The human race, on the other hand, hungers for it; we are all drawn to it in our desire. This reaching out in desire expands the soul and increases its capacity.”[2] Understood in this way, fasting not only permits us to govern our desire, purifying it and making it freer, but also to expand it, so that it is directed towards God and doing good.

However, in order to practice fasting in accordance with its evangelical character and avoid the temptation that leads to pride, it must be lived in faith and humility. It must be grounded in communion with the Lord, because “those who are unable to nourish themselves with the word of God do not fast properly.”[3] As a visible sign of our inner commitment to turn away from sin and evil with the help of grace, fasting must also include other forms of self-denial aimed at helping us to acquire a more sober lifestyle, since “austerity alone makes the Christian life strong and authentic.”[4]

In this regard, I would like to invite you to a very practical and frequently unappreciated form of abstinence: that of refraining from words that offend and hurt our neighbor. Let us begin by disarming our language, avoiding harsh words and rash judgement, refraining from slander and speaking ill of those who are not present and cannot defend themselves. Instead, let us strive to measure our words and cultivate kindness and respect in our families, among our friends, at work, on social media, in political debates, in the media and in Christian communities. In this way, words of hatred will give way to words of hope and peace.

Together

Finally, Lent emphasizes the communal aspect of listening to the word and fasting. The Bible itself underlines this dimension in multiple ways. For example, the Book of Nehemiah recounts how the people gathered to listen to the public reading of the Law, preparing to profess their faith and worship through fasting, so as to renew the covenant with God (cf. 9:1-3).

Likewise, our parishes, families, ecclesial groups and religious communities are called to undertake a shared journey during Lent, in which listening to the word of God, as well as to the cry of the poor and of the earth, becomes part of our community life, and fasting a foundation for sincere repentance. In this context, conversion refers not only to one’s conscience, but also to the quality of our relationships and dialogue. It means allowing ourselves to be challenged by reality and recognizing what truly guides our desires — both within our ecclesial communities and as regards humanity’s thirst for justice and reconciliation.

Dear friends, let us ask for the grace of a Lent that leads us to greater attentiveness to God and to the least among us. Let us ask for the strength that comes from the type of fasting that also extends to our use of language, so that hurtful words may diminish and give way to a greater space for the voice of others. Let us strive to make our communities places where the cry of those who suffer finds welcome, and listening opens paths towards liberation, making us ready and eager to contribute to building a civilization of love.

I impart my heartfelt blessing upon all of you and your Lenten journey.

From the Vatican, 5 February 2026, Memorial of Saint Agatha, Virgin and Martyr

LEO PP. XIV

Manos Unidas Campaign 2026

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LMC España

Once again, Manos Unidas, a Spanish Catholic organization that raises funds to help people around the world, has launched its campaign against hunger. With the slogan “Declare war on hunger,” it has called on people to combat the structural causes of poverty, inequality, and injustice.

For our part, we continue to collaborate as volunteers in the campaign, helping to raise awareness about these realities.

Our role is simple: to bear witness to our missionary life and explain firsthand some of the projects we have seen financed by Manos Unidas in our mission. This is not just any organization, but the way in which the Spanish Church is committed to the realities of impoverished countries and collaborates with them. Most of its funds come from this campaign, which is carried out by parishes throughout Spain every second Sunday in February, and it is time to report on it to all the people who offer their help each year.

This year we have had the opportunity to visit several parishes. Often what we do is attend weekend Masses and share our mission experience and the realities of different countries where we have been as missionaries at the end of the Eucharist or after the homily.

It is very nice to see how in some parishes, such as La Encarnación in Bormujos (Seville), the whole community gets involved in the campaign. Catechists, children, and young people work during the week to help raise awareness in the community, while volunteers organize charity markets or activities such as hunger dinners.

Also, in the parishes of Cerro, Ascensión, and Los Ángeles in Seville East, the volunteers of Manos Unidas and the parish priests lovingly prepare the Masses for that weekend. At the last one, we not only had the opportunity to share in the Eucharist, but also to give our testimony to the adult catechesis group. It was an hour in which we were able to delve deeper into these realities and share photos and a deeper understanding of the causes of these situations and the struggle these countries are undergoing to move forward. In reality, our help as missionaries or our support for certain Manos Unidas projects is nothing more than support for the work and sacrifice that the communities carry out. These communities are the real protagonists and the ones who teach us so much about resilience, about not losing hope, about being creative when you have few resources. We learn so many things from them that it is only fair to share them with our communities of origin at this time.

We hope that the faith and energy they show will also revitalize our communities in Spain and that we will be able to collaborate in building a more just world for all.

Best regards, Alberto and Maricarmen.

Summer missionary experience in Carapira (Mozambique)

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Luca Carapira

My name is Luca, I am 24 years old and, a couple of months ago, I was lucky enough to have an intense missionary experience in Mozambique, more precisely in Carapira, where, thanks to the welcome of the Comboni fathers and Comboni Lay Missionaries, I had the opportunity to meet and get to know the Macua people.

I left for this experience on August 18, together with Ilaria and Federica, two missionaries who have been dedicating their service for almost two years to what has now become their home: Carapira. I was fortunate enough to meet them two years ago in Modica, Sicily, shortly before their departure.

That encounter had a profound effect on me and, right from the start, I began to feel the desire to join them in the mission field, certainly to put myself at their service, but above all to meet, get to know, and let myself be touched by the beauty and humanity that characterize these places. So, this summer, after a short period in Italy, Federica and Ilaria welcomed my request to accompany them with joy and enthusiasm.

And so, after a flight marked by a thousand vicissitudes, including missed and canceled flights, we finally arrived in Mozambique, in Carapira.

Right from the start, I was deeply impressed by the welcome of the local community. After introducing myself during the first Mass I attended, stumbling over my Portuguese, I became “Mano Lucas,” or “Brother Luca,” to everyone. Soon I too began to call everyone I met ‘mano’ and ‘mana’; I even learned to call people older than me ‘mamà’ and ‘papà’, thus entering into a dimension of familiarity and community, perhaps never experienced before, which made me feel welcome and made me feel good.

The incredible welcome I received made me feel at ease from the very first moment and also helped me a lot to fit in, while always remaining on tiptoe, into the daily life and reality of Carapira. I spent the first few weeks mainly observing, getting to know and trying to better understand the context I found myself in, to understand how I could offer my contribution in the little time I had available. I soon realized that in order to do so, I had to stop thinking only with my head and learn instead to open my heart, entrusting myself to God’s love.

So it was that one morning, while I was still recovering from two days of fever, some children from the bairro (village) came to visit me. They had heard that I was not feeling very well and, without hesitation, they had rushed to bring me some cheer and lift my spirits. In addition to keeping me company, they were the ones who entrusted me with what would later become my mission: they asked me to help them study mathematics.

Unfortunately, in Carapira, many children struggle to really learn anything at school. And how can we blame them? All the conditions are in place to make this journey extremely difficult: only three hours of lessons per day, classes of about ninety children with only one teacher, classrooms that are too small, a lack of desks and chairs, suffocating heat and, in some cases, even a lack of pens and notebooks. The result is that many fall behind, unable to do simple addition or even illiterate, despite having attended school for years.

Yet the desire to escape this situation and the desire to learn are strong.

As soon as I had fully recovered, we began this adventure. We had few resources at our disposal—a few sheets of paper and some pens—and the space was what it was. So we began to meet near the large church in Carapira, sitting on the ground and using the walls of the church as a backrest. We settled where there was shade: on one side in the morning, on the other in the afternoon, moving from hour to hour to escape the direct rays of the sun.

In the blink of an eye, word spread and many preferred to ‘abandon’ soccer for a few hours of the day to come and study some math in company.

As I always say, not out of modesty but because it is the truth, what these children taught me during the days we spent together was much more than what I was able to teach them. Being able to observe them, get to know them, be their friend—or, as they would say, their “brother”—was a great fortune that I will always cherish in my heart and that has deeply enriched me. Encountering diversity always leads to new discoveries that nourish the spirit; it leads to an awareness of aspects of oneself that would otherwise be difficult to emerge and, above all, it helps us understand that, despite our many differences, we are all much more similar than we think. Only when we reach this awareness does it become truly possible to speak of “global fraternity.” If only those who govern this crazy world could understand this…

Returning to my experience, I could recount many other significant moments I experienced during those two months: from the beauty of community life with the Comboni missionaries, to whom I will always be grateful, to the intensity of the joyful and authentic faith of the Mozambican people, to the many encounters in small communities scattered throughout the countryside, and much more.

But I will not dwell on this any further, not least because I would need pages and pages to recount it all.

However, in closing, I would like to share a reflection that, during my days in Mozambique, I developed first and foremost about myself and, perhaps, more generally, about the “white tribe,” as Father Alex Zanotelli defines it.

This reflection arose when, shortly after the start of the mission, I began to realize that I was the one receiving the most help. Paradoxically, the person who was helped the most was the one who had set out to help and who, perhaps sinning a little with presumption, did not even feel so needy. This discovery shattered many of my beliefs and, without a doubt, allowed me to start again with a new spirit. It was the spirit of someone who, aware of their own limitations, desires to receive help, desires to feel welcomed and touched by God’s love, in order to cherish it and then give it back, in a new form, to those around them. After all, it is only after being helped that, following the example, we can help others, giving back the love we have received and creating a self-perpetuating spiral of good.

I therefore believe that recognizing ourselves as “needy,” despite all our comforts and all that we possess, is the way to truly welcome God’s love and the first step to take in order to truly serve others.

This, then, is what the mission has taught me most, and consequently, my wish for anyone who reads this article: try to abandon your presumptions and learn to recognize yourself as needy, in order to truly encounter the Other, who is God.

Luca